Nami Swan & the Duckling Which Is by no Means Ugly
by D-Watson
Summary: A quite serious story about Nami studying Sanji’s behavior in male company. It makes her ponder whether things would be different if she was a guy, but since Sanji is such a hopeless womanizer, that probably wouldn’t work out either.


_A quite serious story about Nami studying Sanji's behavior in male company. It makes her ponder whether things would be different if she was a guy, but since Sanji is such a hopeless womanizer, that probably wouldn't work out either. _

One Piece © Eiichirō Oda

* * *

Most of the time, Sanji doesn't even cross her mind as anything other than part of the scenery on Going Merry's front deck. Sure, he's a crewmate and a friend. Nami likes him as much as she likes Luffy or Usopp or Zoro and definitely more than she likes treasure, because shiny and beautiful and valuable as treasure is, it's not something that will wrap you in its jacket when you're feeling cold or push you out of harm's way. On the other hand, treasure is also not something that will smother you to death with its dramatic proclamations of undying love or stick to you like a wet shirt every time you say something remotely nice about it, and so Nami has to wonder just why she likes it _less_ than she likes Sanji.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Sanji isn't _always_ acting the part of the tortured love sick artist (because he fancies himself unhappily in love and also fancies his cooking an art, and while Nami would agree with the latter, the former has a way of getting on her nerves). Sometimes, Sanji is just a guy among guys and sometimes, it's quite entertaining. Especially on those scorching hot days in the tropical seas when there's really nothing better to do that watch men being men. Unfortunately, the only way to observe this kind of behavior is from afar, like, for instance, from the shades of the tangerine garden that he planted for her. Because the moment she sets foot on the deck, he tends to melt into a putty of mock anguish and free verse sonnets, and sometimes all the pampering and compliments in the world aren't worth putting up with that.

With guys, it's different. Cool, collected and utterly unimpressed by everything that goes on in the absence of female company, Sanji often chooses to stick to the sidelines, resting comfortably in the role of the dandy big brother figure, occasionally teaching his petulant siblings manners via kick to the head, but mostly just looking after the family in his own affectionately brutal way. It makes sense, too, with him being among the oldest members of the crew, even if the gap in reasoning and maturity between him and, say, Luffy has little to do with age and everything to do with character.

There are times when he drinks and fights with Zoro or yells at Luffy or offers advise to Usopp, when it's kind of hard to believe him capable of acting like an amorous teenager who recites poems while presenting girls with flowers and treats, all on one knee like some cheesy fairy-tale prince. When he isn't waxing poetic, Sanji is actually an amusing blend of gentleman and punk, the kind of guy who beats you to a pulp without getting your blood on his fancy suit or disturbing his perfect tie knot in the process. The kind of guy who makes a pink apron look like the latest fashion craze from Badassville. And yet somehow, behind all that attitude and nonchalance, he's still completely in tune with human emotions, no matter how well hidden they may be. He never does manage to _really_ not care.

There's something about that combination of style and heart and brute strength that decidedly sets him apart from the real world, but then again, he's hardly the only one. The Straw Hats _are, _after all, about as bizarre and versatile a group as they come, and well aware of it.

But then there's the other side to Sanji, one he doesn't exactly try to hide, but hardly advertises, either. And it's something that makes him just as real and down to Earth as he is extravagant.

Sanji is completely incapable of functioning when there is no one to fight for, nothing to stand up against, no one to protect. He needs to feel needed and when that need is not satisfied, there is nothing that can fill the hole it leaves behind; not cooking, not fighting, perhaps not even his dream of finding the All Blue. And that's probably the place in his heart where all that chivalry and hopeless romanticism come from. Like a relative that gives you a bad gift, Sanji has his heart in the right place, but often trips up during execution.

It occurs to her that if he just stopped trying so damn hard, he would probably have a lot more success with girls. Girls other than her, of course. Because Nami is utterly disinterested in Sanji, charms, grace, frisky smirk behind a think cloud of cigarette smoke and all. She is not remotely taken by the way his every move has the efficiency of a trained surgeon, while still carrying an air of innate, effortless elegance. Not even his talent at unmistakably identifying a person's taste and satisfying it to the fullest is of consequence to her.

Okay, that last part isn't entirely true. His cooking, at least, she can openly praise without him getting any weird ideas. It gets her that extra helping of whipped cream on her coffee and prissy little cocktails mixed from ingredients carefully measured to the third decimal point. Although, to be fair, he would probably happily go that extra mile for any girl, even if all the gratitude he ever received was a kick to the guts. It's mostly annoying, somewhat endearing and way too convenient to not take advantage of.

But there are also moments, brief and rare, when he does just the right thing in the right way. When he picks up on the tiniest hints of bad mood, whips her up a freakishly huge cup of mint flavored hot chocolate and delivers it with nothing more than a smile before leaving her in peace. When he stands up for her, not to impress her, but because she is lady and he is a gentleman and no gentleman will allow insult or injury to any lady in his presence. When he _doesn't_ stand up for her, because even though he is a gentleman and she is a lady, she is also his Miss Nami who is capable of taking care of herself, and he would never deny her the satisfaction of kicking some ass when she so desires.

It makes her think Sanji is really growing into his self image, into someone truly desirable and fascinating. It makes her think that maybe, just maybe, it would be wise to bag the bird before it realizes it can fly. Even if it's the sort of bird that shrieks medieval poetry and flaps around you until you throw a rock at it.

~fin~

* * *

Sanji cooks for readers who leave a review :-]


End file.
